Drawing the Future
by AwkwardImagination
Summary: Sketch is the 25 year old Irish girl, who seems to be dealing with the Apocalypse far too well. After leading her group from one ruin to another they finally found their safe haven in the form of an old church. And in the best nature they flock to Ricks group to help them. But will her and Daryl work or will they just destroy each other? Rated M for language and future scenes.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys, this is my other Walking Dead fanfiction, can't help it. Obsessed. **

**I imagine Sketch to look a bit like Karen Gillian, but I've always imagined Sketch as Irish but I honestly cannot write accents and whatnot so use your imagination. **

**This is kind of AU by the way, instead of them seeing the prison after them leaving the farm they see the Cathedral/church stone building and see that as their safe haven. **

**Disclaimer: I only own my OC's sorry**

**Please enjoy and review**

Sketch put her head in her hands as Joe stormed into her room. Pushing her hand through her long red hair before lifting her head up to return his glare which was fixated on her.

"Well what are you going to do Lailah?" he snarled at her as she tried to resist the temptation to roll her eyes as she replied. Trying to keep her tone platonic as she noticed Liams exasperated expression behind him.

"Nothing until morning. I doubt that they'll move until the sun is back up. And please don't call me Lailah, you know I fucking hate it," she said back, her Irish accent thick as she tried to keep her temper under control.

"Fine then _Sketch_," he sneered. "You'd better not bring them here."

"I'm sorry," she growled, standing up and putting her hands on the table. "But I'm the one in charge here apparently. So you can listen to me." She spat out. The fight physically draining her as she sat back down. Leaning back on the chair and pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Fine," she said. "I promise I shan't be a considerate human and let them come and stay with us. I will leave them outside as a walking meal. Okay?" She glared up at him. Watching as Joe stood above her for a few seconds. His dark green eyes seemingly trying to bore into her dark brown ones before he left with a smug grin on his face.

After a few seconds of silence Sketch dropped her head onto the desk and heard Liams voice through her covered ears.

"You're going to let them join us aren't you?" He asked casually, perching on the edge of her desk.

"Aye," she said simply. Lifting her head up so she was looking at him. A small smile playing on her lips as she played with the septum piercing nervously. "I'd have said anything to get him to get off my back."

"I don't blame you," Liam said quietly. "If you think it's best, I trust you."

Sketch threw one of the crumpled pieces of paper which were lying scattered on the desk at him half heartedly. "You're the best friend I could have ever asked for. Thanks for it all Leelee."

"Don't worry about it," Liam grinned. Swooping down and picking up the crumpled piece of paper, and flinging it back at her. "What's the plan boss?"

"Urgh," Sketch put her head back in her hands as she spoke. "We nick some cigarettes off Joe. We watch and see where they move too, if they move towards us we go and check them out. If they're not dangerous we see how it goes. Can you let Shelby and Ruben know? We'll leave at first light."

"Anything you say boss," Liam teased, before leaving Sketch to her own thoughts.

(Break in the page here)

"We'll set up watch points," Rick said, barking out orders as Daryl looked around at the bloody and scared group around him. His crossbow taught in his arms as his eyes danced around the blackness which covered them.

"And as soon as it's light enough to move we'll head up to the church, clean it out and make us safe." Rick finished, sitting back on the ground and leaving the group to their whispered conversations.

Daryl couldn't shake the sensation that there was something wrong with the whole situation as he pulled himself up on the wall. Keeping his eyes on the field in front of him as he allowed his mind to drift away.

**Please review**

**Reviews are like my fuel.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for such a long wait for all those who reviewed and followed, but school & work just started and everything has just seemed so overwhelming :'}**

**But yeah I aim to update as much as possible, so I hope I please all **

**Thank you for your reviews Leyshla Gisel & Day-Of-The-Dead-TattooGal – the reviews keep me going!**

**But yeah here's the next chapter**

**Please, review and enjoy **

"Liam are you ready?" Sketch yelled from the bottom of the stone stairwell. Tucking the few loose strands of her red hair into the high pony tail.

"Yeah," Shelby yelled, making Sketch chuckle. "And they say girls take forever."

"Aye," Sketch echoed, finding Shelbys good mood contagious as she grinned. Cocking an eyebrow at Liam as he trudged down the stairs. "I never took this long."

"Screw you guys," Liam muttered under his breath as he playfully nudged her shoulder as she walked towards the door.

Sketch stopped just before she reached the door as she looked around the church which was now her home as she grinned at one of the children on the other side of the room. She liked the way that the church allowed so much light through regardless of how secure it was. She glanced up and stared at the pale pink coloured light which shined through the stained glass windows, before she exhaled a breath which she wasn't even conscious she was holding, before turning and walking out of the door.

"Remember," she called out behind her to the girl sitting on the roof. "If you see anything at all, use the walkie. And if Joe asks about me Amy?"

"I haven't seen you," Sketch could hear Amy reply from the roof making her smirk as she flung herself under the almost unnoticeable hole in the wall.

Sketch turned on her heel and put her finger to her lips to motion silence as she looked into her friends faces one by one before she broke into a large grin. Enjoying the surge of confidence which the trust in her friends eyes gave her.

"Shelby, Liam you go down that side," she whispered, keeping her head down, tucking the gun into the waistband of her black shorts. "Callum, Josh – you two go down the other side. I'll walk forward and distract them, you sneak round their back. Make sure they're safe before we do anything. Got it?"

The four of them nodded in unison, a smile tugging on the edge of their lips before they dispersed. Sketch pulled herself up to her full height and ran to the middle of the field.

"I'm not dead. I'm living, don't hurt the living." She screamed.

**Ohhhh boom aha**

**Next chapter there will be Daryl and Sketch interaction, anything you want to see – how they should act with each other?**

**I'm super sorry that this chapter is so short, I'll make up for it soon (hopefully tomorrow)**

**Review? ;D**


	3. Chapter 3

**I wasn't going to do it **

**But I did **

**I was going to wait until tomorrow and finish this chapter, but I loved this so far**

**(and I have some family back tomorrow, and if the internet goes like last time, well at least there's this to tide you over.)**

Sketch could hear them yelling for her to stop and stand still as she got closer. And yet she also noticed that so far none of them had withdrawn any weapon excluding the guy at the front, wielding a cross bow. But she also noticed that he wasn't the one in charge so she didn't allow herself to stop.

"Please," she said, dropping her head but still trying to meet the cross-bow-mans eyes as she allowed her own green eyes to fill with tears. "Please," she whispered again. Trying to make her voice sound horse as she caught the flash of chocolate coloured hair which she recognised as Liam. And almost at the same time, the man hesitated, his crossbow dropping a fraction.

Which was when Sketch pulled the gun from her shorts, holding it steadily at his head.

The gun itself was small. The silencer on the end making it look more menacing then she remembered but she still didn't allow her arm to waver as she watched her friends surround the new survivors.

"Now then," Sketch spoke up before anyone else could. "I don't want to hurt you. But I'm sure you all understand that I have to protect my group first. So I just want to have a calm discussion with you."

"And you expect us to do that with a gun to our heads?" The man standing in front of her spat out. Now she felt as if it were his cool blue eyes trying to pull the trick on her.

"Your crossbow is at my chest. I'd say we're even," Sketch shot back, trying to narrow her eyes into a glare.

"I just wanna find a safe place for my group – for my _family_," the man who Sketch assumed was the leader of the group.

"I don't mind giving you that," Sketch tried to reply evenly. Ignoring the man in front of her. "As I said we only want to talk. How do we know you ain't dangerous?"

"How about," the Southern man replied slowly. "We tell you our names, and you can tell us yours and then we can lower out weapons."

And at the end of his sentence Sketch wondered if she was the only one who could hear Daryls bemused (or annoyed, but she couldn't tell) grunt.

"Sure thing." Sketch tried to smile, but under the glare of the sun and the atmosphere around her she wasn't sure if it came out as more of a grimace.

"My names Sketch. That there with the mop of hair is Liam and that's Shelby. Then there's Callum and Josh." She pointed absentmindedly at them as she introduced them. Not once letting the gun waver from its spot pointing at the man in front of.

"Nice to meet you," he said. Sketch trying not to smirk at the way his tone contradicted his statement.

"My name, here is Rick. That's my wife Lori and this is my boy Carl," he carried on with the introductions, leaving the man in front of her until last.

"And the man your gun is pointed at is Daryl."

Sketch stayed silent for a minute, her eyes wondering over to Liams, as she tried to gauge his thoughts about the group but all she could see was the trust which she'd grown accustomed to since the world ended.

"Well," she said, breaking the tense silence before letting the gun drop limply to her side. Holding her hand out to Daryl. "It's nice to meet you too."

**Thoughts/opinions?**

**I hope you like?**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm so sorry for the delay, so much work is driving me crazy, but I think I'm on top of it now**

**Thank you for all of your reviews, it makes me so happy and I'd love to thank each and every one of you! I'm so glad you enjoy this story (I hope)**

**I will update much more from now on, thank you for putting up with me. **

**Love you all **

**Sorry it's so short too, I planned for it to be longer but I got stuck. **

Sketch forced the grin to remain on her face as Daryl just grunted in response, the crossbow still taut in his arms.

"Listen Sketch," she heard Rick try to say platonically. She resisted the temptation to go on tip toes so she could see his face over Daryls shoulder. Him shifting on his feet blocked her sight. "We don't mind telling you anything you want to know. But we're in the open out here."

"Aye, we are," Sketch nodded. Her eyes flicking over towards Liam, boring into his eyes, before tilting her head to the right. A true grin slipping onto her features as he beckoned for their group to mimic him as he turned around. Each of them monitoring the area around them. "But now they won't sneak up on us."

"Okay, okay," she could hear a woman mutter. Only just seeing Lori nodding slightly as she took a few steps away from Daryl. His eyes still on her so she returned the glare. "What do you want to know?"

"What happened to you all? You don't look like you're starving so I'll assume you were holed up some place nice."

"We were on my farm," Hershel spoke up. "A group of walkers walked though. Destroyed everything."

"And right now," Rick spoke up as soon as Hershel finished. His tone drawing Sketchs glare away from Daryl. Her expression softening as she took in the dishevelled look of the group as a whole. Trying to ignore them as a threat and see them more as people that she would have once done. "We just need a lucky break."

"Can't argue with that then can I?" She quirked her eyebrow. "Rules are as follows; you leave the kids to me. You eat what you're given, nothin' more, nothin' less. And you work your ass off."

Sketch waited until Liam & co were in front before she began walking, the rest Ricks group behind her in tow.

"Thank you for this," Rick said, in what Sketch assumed was sincere as they walked, over the muddy field.

"Don't mention it glad I could help," Sketch tried to say flippantly. Aware of the blush on her cheek at the gratitude, unused to gratitude all together.

"Walkers!" A broken voice from the walkie talkie around Sketches waist slipped out. Sketches face warping into a shocked expression as she spun her head around. Silently chastising herself for not hearing them as ten or so walkers were only all in all twenty feet away from her.

"Fuck," she heard Daryl yell. Pulling up his crossbow up to his chest, momentarily stunning Sketch as she took in the apt concentration on his face and saw something he never expected to see on the red necks face, due to the judgement she had already made from him. It was a mixture of fear and concern.

"Don't fire any guns," Sketch tried to yell. Hoping that everyone heard her but the fear she always felt, sucking the air from her as she ran.

"Leelee?" Sketch called out over her shoulder as she saw Liam run beside her. The machete raised his above his head as Sketch felt her hand tighten around the metal crow bar as she tried her hardest to not look at the walker in front of her. Before smashing the crow bar around the womans head, trying to block out the sickening crunch as she began to hum the first song which popped into her head.

"Fuck," Sketch growled as she tried to yank the crow bar which was imbedded into what was once a mans skulls. She turned around on her heel and saw the rapidly oncoming Walker, limping slightly from where a lump of flesh had obviously been bitten from his leg.

"Fuck," Sketch repeated, still trying to pull the crow bar from the skull of the Walker. Too aware of the fact that the Walker was rapidly coming closer and closer.

Sketch lifted her head up and instantaneously was coated in Walker brain and flesh as she saw an arrow penetrate the Walkers skull as Daryl walked forwards. Yanking the crow bar out of the mans head as if it were not embedded there at all.

"And you're meant to protect yo' group by yo' self?" He muttered, before pulling is arrow out of the Walkers skull and joining his group away from the now truly dead Walkers.

S**orry it's short but I've had so much work it's mental. But for once I am on top of everything, which is a nice feeling aha, so be prepared for a fab chapter tomorrow**

**But yeah, so sorry for not updating more often**

**But remember**

**Reviews = fuel **

**I love you all! **


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm so sorry for the delay, so much work is driving me crazy, And I wish I could say I'm on top of it. I'm sadly reaaaally not. But I try aha**

**Thank you for all of your reviews, it makes me so happy and I'd love to thank each and every one of you! I'm so glad you enjoy this story (I hope)**

**I will update much more from now on, thank you for putting up with me. **

**Love you all **

**Sorry it's so short too, I planned for it to be longer but I got stuck. **

"And you're meant to protect yo' group by yo' self?" He muttered, before pulling is arrow out of the Walkers skull and joining his group away from the now truly dead Walkers.

"Aye I am," Sketch snapped back, tossing her hair behind her shoulders. "And I manage fine. Don't like it then you can fuck off."

"I just saved your ass," Daryl shot back, and Sketch felt an unwelcome burst of guilt. He was right he did save her, and she should be in his debt. But she didn't like to be reminded on how badly she had failed everyone around her.

"Didn't make you," she spat out from grit teeth before pulling the walkie talkie from her back pocket.

"Aye, Amy open up." She said to the static, hating the sound which hung in the air.

(Insert page break here)

Daryl didn't understand what he'd done to already upset the girl in front of him – all he'd done is save her life. And as far as he was concerned that was a good thing.

He glanced down at her as she waited for the heavy wooden door to open, apprehension creeping onto her face. Yet she was so focused on the door and Rick talking about how they would only help she didn't notice him staring at her.

Her red hair fell down her back, shining in the sunlight and he noticed the freckles which adjourned across her cheeks and shoulders. And then the small metal bar going through her septum and two others either side of her nose. And then a flash of purple making his eyes fall down to her chest and just before his eyes travelled further south he noticed what was glittering in the sun light.

On one of her collar bones, there was what looked like a little purple gem _sticking out from her skin_.

"What's with all the piercings? You a freak or sommat?" he asked, the words coming out of his mouth with more disgust then he wanted. But he refused to take them back when Sketch turned and fixed him with a stony glare.

He did however breathe a sigh of relief that no one else had heard him. He knew how much they needed this break – after the farm. But he just couldn't stop himself.

"We ain't freak," she said softly, smirking up at him with a glint in her eye. "We just ain't the same as you."

And before Daryl knew why, he found himself smiling softly as well. It was her eyes, the joy he saw in them was contagious. In the back of his mind he was mulling over why the fact she was happy because he called her a freak, but he figured he'd ask her later.

Daryl pushed the cross bow up slightly so it wouldn't dig into his arm as the door opened, glancing sideways at Sketch who looked a lot more tired and old as she saw a man standing at the door.

"Not going to take them in," he snapped. "Doesn't look like it. You lied to me."

He stood with the rest of his group and looked around the grass clearing awkwardly as he watched two other guys shut the heavy door behind them. Watching Sketch's shoulders tense as she walked forwards.

"Aye I did fucking lie to you, because it's up to me to make the decisions around here. And I went to check them out actually. And they helped to clear up a few of the Dead Ones on the other side. They're _useful_."

"How are they useful?" Joe practically yelled in her face, and it made Daryl inwardly cringe. Memories resurfacing of his mum and dad fighting before she left. He opened his mouth to say something, but one of the guys – Liam – shook his head slightly.

"They blow up like this every few days, best to just let them fight it out." He muttered, although Daryl noticed that he looked just a concerned as he felt.

"Remind me of how many Dead Ones you have killed Joe?" she almost whispered, the anger in her voice making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. There was silence for a second before she spoke again. "Oh that's right. None. So don't try and make all the fucking decisions now when it's easy."

"How is this easy?" He shot back, his voice getting louder.

"Shut the fuck up," she hissed. "If you attract any you'll have to kill them."

Daryl watched as she went to stalk past him, but instead he grabbed her arm and pulled her backwards, and in that instance Daryl only just realised how small she was. Barely scraping five ft four. He'd also taken a few steps forwards at the same time as Rick.

"Fucking back off," he growled, surprised at himself.

"Exactly. He might be help he's dangerous." Joe spat out at Sketch as she pulled herself to her feet. Turing her back on him with a strained smile slapped across her face.

"Guys this is Ricks group. Ricks group this is my group. Apologies for that, that's Joe. He's the kind of guy that would let us starve to death, but there'd be plenty of food left." She said snidely. Before rolling her eyes and carrying on. "You can all go and wash, Shelby will show you where to go and then I'd like it if you would each choose someone from my group to go on watch with. You," she began. And with much to Daryls surprise she pointed at him. "Seeing as you're so dangerous. You can come on watch with me tonight." Before turning on her heel and disappearing.

S**orry it's short but I've had so much work it's mental. And I know I said I was on top of everything. I couldn't have been more wrong.**

**But yeah, so sorry for not updating more often**

**But remember**

**Reviews = fuel **

**I love you all! **


	6. I am so sorry I love all your faces

Hello my beautiful and wonderful readers, this is an apology note

I know some of you will probably understand;

I've just started a new school, and a new job. And at the moment I'm just trying to find a balance in my life I suppose.

So this doesn't mean that I am never ever going to update this story again, much to the contrary I am probably going to update as soon as I can, but yeah.

I'd love for you to let me know what you want to see go on in this story/if you even _want_ me to update this story. Or anything else you want to say.

I'm so sorry

I love all your faces

You're perfect.

So sorry

Awkwardimagination xox


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry about the wait guys, let me know if you like what's going on and I'm open to reviews and such. So yes enjoy! **

Sketch wondered out of her small basement "office" of sorts as soon as she could hear the dinner dishes being cleared up. She didn't want to have to explain that she wasn't going to be eating dinner, or explain that there wasn't as much food as they thought.

"Another time," she thought to herself as she crept up the stairs, smiling when she walked into the communal dining room. Her group had merged with hers quite. She could see Joe out of the corner of her eye smiling at Beth, as much as they argued she liked to see that smile back on his face. As if he hadn't changed at all since the outbreak.

She took the lit cigarette from in-between Liams fingers with a thankful smile. Looking down the table at the group of mismatched children, three of them overjoyed with Carl as a new arrival.

She looked pointedly at Daryl and opened her mouth to get him to follow her when she saw Rick and Beth stand nervously beside her.

"You alright?" she asked, taking in Beths scared expression.

"Beth wanted to have a word with you," Rick said, patting Beth on the back before walking back to his seat.

"What's the matter doll?" Sketch asked, perching on the edge of the table. Trying to smile comfortingly at her.

"It's just I know you said for like us all to stay we had to like earn our keep n'stuff and I wanted to go on watch earlier but they said I couldn't wit' them. And I just," Sketch noticed the tears which formed in Beths eyes as she spoke faster. "I didn't wanna be the reason that we can't stay 'ere because you let us in and everything."

Sketch had to hold back a laugh, as she looked at Beth with what she hoped was kind eyes.

"Who was it?" Sketch asked as she flicked the cigarette, into the makeshift ashtray.

"Uh," Beth thought, silent for a second. "Jess and Amy."

"Oh," Sketch nodded in understanding, "Don't worry about them. They didn't say it to be mean, the twins – even before all of this they did everything together. So just don't worry, I won't kick you out over that. How about tomorrow after lunch Joe is on watch, you can go with him." As soon as the words were out of Sketch's mouth she watched as Beth looked at Joe nervously.

"He's a sweetheart really," she tried to get the worried expression out of Beth's eyes. "Honestly, we just don't get on sometimes. He was always a stubborn bastard."

Beth nodded at her and smiled slightly before she moved back to her seat. Sketch took one last drag of the cigarette before flicking it into the ashtray and pointing at Daryl. "Come'on. Let's go."

She heard Daryl walk up the stairs behind her as they walked up to the flat roof, she found the silence both comforting and unnerving.

"We'll just sit in the middle, backs touching so we can see both sides." Sketch said, using her knife to point around the perimeter. Before she sat in the middle of the roof, placing the knife on the floor beside her.

She watched as Daryl followed suite, sitting beside her, seeing him glance out of the corner of her eye at the knife.

"Something to say?" Sketch, tilted her head so she was looking at him, a smile on her face.

"Is that a kitchen knife?" Daryl grunted as he turned slightly to look at her.

"Aye," Sketch smirked. "Hasn't done me tha' bad. First thing a grabbed when the shit went down. Kinda don't want to let it go."

Daryl shrugged. "Long as it kills Walkers."

"Sorry about earlier as well," Sketch said after a pause. "You saved me I shouldn't ta' been rude."

"S'alright," Daryl said uncomfortably.

Silence eloping the pair of them for the rest of the night, but Sketch couldn't help but to believe that everything she'd done was right. The new group was a good thing, it'd help to keep her group safe and honestly _they weren't that bad_.

**Enjoy and review my friends. Thanks! :D **


	8. Chapter 8

**I would bore you with tales on how horrible school and work is at the moment but I shan't I'll hurry with this chapter!**

_Sketch snapped her eyes open and was immediately met with darkness. She tried to push herself upright but instead was met with what felt like wood as she fell back to lying on her back. She felt her breathing quicken as she felt around her, confined in what felt like a coffin._

"_Help me," she screamed. Tears pricking in her eyes as she began to panic as she screamed. Fear coursing through her veins as she felt the coffin shrink around her. "Get me the fuck out of 'ere."_

_Sketch felt momentarily blinded as the lid of what she could now defiantly say it was a wooden coffin she was trapped in. It didn't help her feel any better though as she scrambled out desperately onto the grass around her. _

_She looked around and noticed the Moses basket lying discarded in the middle of the grassy clearing as high pitched baby cries began to pierce the air. _

_Sketch ran towards the cries. Her legs felt as if they were going to fall off, as her lungs began to burn. She bent over the Moses basket and looked inside. Inside she saw her baby, just as she'd left her. The red curls on her head shining in the sunlight as she pulled her into her arms. _

"_Oh baby," Sketch crooned. The fear from being trapped in the coffin still making her body shake, but the happiness almost overwhelmed her. "I love you baby girl."_

_Sketch was so happy that she didn't hear the screaming from the baby in her arms turn into undead snarls. She didn't notice that the baby was clawing at her arm. She didn't notice the baby gorging on her flesh, downing her blood. Not until she looked down and saw the flesh being torn from her bones. _

Sketch woke up with a start, sweat coating her body from the bad dream but none the less she felt more rested than she had in a while. She tried to work all the kinks out of her back as she stood up. Momentarily alarmed when she heard a small grunt from the bundle of blankets on the other side of the room as she remembered.

She'd offered Daryl to share a room with her, as there were none left.

Sketch cursed herself inwardly as she frantically ran about the room, yanking various items of clothing from the floor desperately trying to find clean clothes.

"Why the fuck did I offer. When did I take those fucking jeans off," she muttered, her brain still hazy as she yanked on a pair of black jeans. The only coherent thought she had was that she needed to hide the scars scattered across her legs.

"Daryl," Sketch smiled as she messed up the patch of Daryls hair sticking above the covers. She shrugged the cleaner checked shirt on over her ratty t-shirt. "Get your ass up we've been up for ages."

**Super dooper short but I've been planning out this story and we need a lot of background info on Sketchs past. So yeah, there are some subtle hints all over this little chapter**

**Can you guess what I'm thinking? I love your faces!**


	9. Chapter 9

**I would bore you with long explanations as to why I have been absent, but I am back now and hopefully with some more frequent updates so yes without further waiting, here is the chapter!**

**(The song played is Marvellous Things by Eisley, whom I do not own, same as any of AMC the Walking Dead characters)**

Daryl had felt uneasy ever since he saw the scars which were covering Sketchs legs that morning. He knew she probably didn't remember the previous night. Their short and sweet exchange that she could share her room because everywhere else was cramped, even though it was a small room. The way he saw her eyelids slam shut as soon as her head hit the pillow – he was surprised she was functioning at all.

He wanted to let her know he was awake when she woke up, but through slits in his eyes he saw her panicked expression as she tumbled out of bed. Not remembering himself when she took her jeans off. None the less he wasn't complaining, despite the scars he liked the way her body looked.

'_With a body like that she won't want a boy like you,' _Merles poisonous words whispered into Daryls head but they were silenced when he came to Sketches office door.

He leaned on the doorframe and watched the scene in front of him, Sketch sat crossed legged on the floor, holding a beaten down guitar. With one of the children – who he vaguely remembered introducing herself as Clara – mimicking her position opposite her.

"Aye, but you're going to want to wow everyone new. So let's practice?" Sketch beamed, Daryl catching the profile of her face as she turned her head down to the guitar.

"I woke the dawn,  
Saw horses growing out the lawn," Daryl couldn't help but to smile at the soft voice which he would've never thought she could have produced. The harshness which her accent seemed to coat her words now sounded as soft as butter in the sun. He chuckled slightly at Clara, her small eyebrows furrowed as she tried to remember the words.

"_I glimpsed a bat with butterfly wings  
Oh what marvellous things,  
Ah,"_ she continued softly, her fingers strumming the chords gently on the guitar, lifting her eyes from the guitar every few seconds to send Clara an encouraging look. Daryl wondered idly why she hadn't noticed him yet, but decided he didn't care either way.

"_Dark night, hold tight. And sleep tight  
My baby  
Morning light, shall burst bright  
and keep us here safely.  
I followed a rabbit,  
Through rows of mermaid entwined shrubbery  
Oh what marvellous things, but, they are, they are, they are  
Giving me the creeps  
Dark night, hold tight. And sleep tight  
My baby  
Morning light, shall burst bright  
and keep us here safely.  
Oh, lying in the sun  
Every day feeling all of the magic in life  
You might find the wonder.  
Dark night, hold tight. And sleep tight  
My baby  
Morning light, shall burst bright  
And keep us here safely.  
Morning light, shall burst bright  
And keep us here safely.  
Ah," _Daryl kept watching her as she finished, placing the guitar on the floor beside her before high fiving Clara.

"Wow did you see that gal. You remembered all the words and you were amazin' you know." Sketch grinned encouragingly, before turning to face Daryl with a mock smile of horror on her face but he could see the amusement in her eyes from where he was.

"Uh oh," she winked before turning to face Clara. "Daryls heard us, you better make he swears not to tell anyone about our performance gal." She chuckled before pulling herself to her feet, walking past him to walk up the small wooden staircase.

Hopefully to eat, Daryl thought under absentmindedly as he realised in the short amount of time he'd been there he hadn't seen her eaten a thing. She looked so small, he noticed as she sauntered past him flashing him a winning smile which made him momentarily forget why he'd gone through all the effort of finding her.

Before he could open his mouth to call her back however, she was already gone and he was left with an – what he assumed was ten or so – year old girl staring at him.

"Mister, did you like our song," she asked him and Daryl found himself surprised at the innocence in her eyes that he couldn't even bring himself to merely grunt as a response.

"Yeah," he settled for muttering.

"Did you think it was too weird?" she pressed him, and Daryl was saved from having to answer by Liam walking down the stairs behind him.

"No, weird is good," he smiled before turning to face him. "Can I have a word?"

Daryl followed him wordlessly out of the office, watching Clara run up the stairs before turning to face Liam.

"Can I help you?" he grunted. Not comfortable around the other members of Sketches freaky group.

"Sketch looked upset when she came downstairs this morning, and I know you stayed in her room. Did anything?" Liam trained off, a question in his eyes as well as an accusation which Daryl didn't like.

"Nah," he grumbled as he stormed past Liam.

(Insert break in page)

Sketch sat outside, welcoming the cold breeze regardless as if the sun was still shining. Winter was on its way – which Sketch saw as another thing to worry about.

She sat down next Rick, who she knew wanted to talk to her, watching the children run about on the grassy clearing, thankfully protected by the stone wall. She grinned at Carl who was sitting at his fathers feet.

"Hey Carl, come 'ere." She beckoned him forwards. "You see that boy over there," she pointed subtly towards Benny. "We found him with his ma and sister on the road. And we took 'em with us. And then one night, they ran away." She didn't have to look at Carl to see the incredulous expression on his face. "Just packed tha' things and left. So can you do me a favour?" She glanced down to see him nod enthusiastically. "Can you go help him play wit' tha' other children. He gets really sad now days."

And without any further prompting Carl ran off in the direction Benny was in, sitting on the grass behind the other children.

"So officer Grimes. You got some questions ya' wanna ask?" She asked, ignoring the gnawing hunger as she turned to face him.

**I once again am so so sorry. **

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	10. Chapter 10

Sketch glanced at Rick as he spoke, the hesitation which she believed she would've felt before having this conversation faded away as she saw the worn down look in his eyes.

"How'd you all survive this long. You took us in so quick and," Rick paused slightly before he continued. "There are others out there who ain't like that."

"Aye," Sketch nodded slightly. Only allowing herself to remember for a second when she had to shoot them men. Their faces seconds before they realised what she was about to do, pulling the trigger. "I know. People are shit, especially in this new world. I realised pretty early on when everyone else was still thinking that it was a bad dream. Or that people weren't bad at all. I always expected the worst in people so I don't know. I suppose you could say emotionally I was more equipped. It was so fast," Sketch muttered, her eyes vague as she spoke. She found herself unable to stop the stream of words which were falling from her mouth, finding it impossible to talk to anyone of her own group about it.

"Obviously most of my group knew each other before this shit storm. Ta' be fair it had good timing. Me, Liam, Ruben and Callium were going to go on tour in our little band at summer break. I was going to head back to Ireland. I left there at sixteen, moved to America wit' my ma. Ta' get away from everythin' back home. That's why we got instruments, our half assed tour bus made it all tha' way here. Picked up anotha' couple of kids along the way." Sketch chuckled, part of her silently berating herself for the babble which had already escaped her lips.

"That's quiet a tale," Rick said smiling at her. The laughter from the children drawing their attention away from each other.

"What about you?" Sketch muttered, pushing a hand through her red hair. Unsure as to if she wanted to hear of the horrors which were outside the walls of the church she'd come to love.

Sketch listened silently as Rick talked about the quarry, the CDC, Doctor Jenner, the farm - Dale the lot of it. And the whole way through Sketch could only think about how lucky she'd been. The little hope she'd felt had been dwindling, and all she could fixtate on was that night. Their "party." She couldn't think about anything else, she couldn't allow herself too.

"Then is this all? Is it all dead out there," Sketch muttered before pulling herself to her full hight before slumping back in the chair. "Tonight will be a party. We're singing, everyone's joining apart from Andrea on the roof."

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	11. Chapter 11

**Plenty of smut in this chapter for you, but fear not their relationship shall not be so straight forward.**

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Sketch reveled at the feeling of being on stage, she missed it. She let the music wrap around her as she sung.

"There ain't no rest for the wicked  
Money don't grow on trees.  
I got bills to pay  
I got mouths to feed.  
There ain't nothing in this world for free.  
And I can't slow down,  
I can't hold back  
I can't slow down though you know I wish I could  
No, their ain't no rest for the wicked.  
Until we close our eyes for good."

She let the last note make her body shake as she grinned, swooping down to pick up the hipflask from the floor. The sweat making her hair stick to her forehead as she listened to the applause which considering there were so few sounded too loud.

"Aha," Sketch yelled, as she tried to jump of the stage. One of her feet somehow getting caught as she skidded down.

She watched sitting in a corner with Liam everyone around her for the following five mintues. Watching as the liquor made everyone happier, the children picking up on the adults good moods. So in turn they were happy.

Sketch wondered idily where Daryl was. She pulled herself to her feet and swayed sighly as the alcohol took it's toll on her body. She glanced in the mirror before she walked down the stairs. Alarmed at how similar she looked from before. After every gig she had, she couldn't extinguish herself from then and now.

Sketch padded down to her office, looking forward to pulling out the secret stash of whiskey. As she pushed the door open she saw Daryl standing towards the window facing the moonlight, a bottle of _her_ whiskey clenched in his fists.

"Daryl? Are you alright?" She stumbled into the room, but he gave no indication that he'd heard her. "Daryl?" She picked up the spare bottle as she walked towards him. It wasn't until she took his hand in hers that he acknowledged that she was there. Her touch startled him. Well, that was only fair. It startled her, too. She didn't know why she was being so forward. She never had been in her life, she assumed is was the alcohol dulling her ususal fears.

She meant to let go of his hand, but she didn't. Or maybe he didn't let her. He swayed on his feet, still holding her hand; the net effect was that she took a step closer, found herself standing between those long legs of his. She was close enough now that she heard his heartbeat and wasn't that a bit odd? But maybe it was just because she was standing with her nose to his chest.

On impulse, Sketch laid her free hand flat on his chest. She felt the buttons of his shirt dig at her palm, felt the beat of his heart, faster than she would have expected, as if he'd been running or…

She looked up. Daryl's eyes were raw red, fixed on her. There was a smudge of a tear on his chin. "Sketch…" His voice was rough; his face so close to hers now that she felt his breath on her cheek. His hand tightened on hers even as he whispered gruffly, "You should go." He told her to leave and yet pulled her up against him, trapping the hand that lay on his chest between their bodies. She felt his erection when he shifted a little against her hip.

She felt it. His touch, his breath. All of it. She knew she should be afraid. She didn't know him at all, and from the way his hand was wrapped so tight around the bottle of whiskey it was obvious he was angry. Or maybe it was just plain lust. Because she felt that, too.

Sketch smiled. "I'm not afraid of you, Daryl. I've faced worst monsters." She freed one hand, reached up to thread her fingers into his hair, reveled in the silky feel of it as she cupped her hand around the back of his skull. She leaned into him. "You can't hurt me, Daryl," she whispered, her lips brushing his. "I've always survived." She licked his lower lip which in turn made him shake shook harder. "Cherries, Daryl? You've put on my Chapstick."

She laughed as he spun her quickly around, pinning her with his body to the window. "You tasted that, did you?" His eyes were normal again, but there was no less of the sadness and pain in them. He breathed in. "You're beautiful," he breathed onto her mouth.

"Glad you like." She wound her arms up around his neck.

He pressed his erection against her and smiled, predatory, all alpha male. "Oh, yes…"

"Taste me." She meant it as a question, but it came out as more of a demand and that's how Daryl took it. She didn't honestly know if she kissed him or if he kissed her, but what did it matter? Either way, their mouths finally met in more than just a light touch. She opened her mouth to Daryl, her tongue slid along his and electricity seemed to shoot through her whole body, radiating all the way to her toes. He tasted of copper and whiskey, salty which was sweet and she couldn't imagine a different taste for him.

It all moved so fast, after that. A frenzy of need they both surrendered to. She'd thought she'd never have this again. Not that she'd ever had it before, really; Daryl was no Jacks. Or rather Jacks was no Daryl.

She felt Daryl slide up her shirt (and did, oh, god, and it felt so good) slip his hands underneath. He stroked her skin, brushing his fingers lightly over her stomach, her ribs, up her back where he made quick work of the hooks so that her bra no longer hampered his touch in any way. And all the while he sucked at her mouth and tongue. She caught his lower lip in her teeth and then his hands were cupping her breasts, his thumbs stroking her nipples. She pushed into it, wanting more.

He made quick work of her clothes as in seconds she found herself standing topless before him. Sketch murmured a low protest when he pulled his mouth from hers, but then it was alright because he didn't move very far, only shifted so that his mouth could join his hands. He grazed his teeth over her left nipple and she shivered; he licked her breast and sucked and tugged at her nipple and she moaned. She couldn't help herself even if she'd wanted to.

But Sketch wanted more. She tugged at Daryl's shirt, unbuckled his belt to get at the button of his jeans and then in one swift move his shirt was gone as he pulled it over his head and flung off to land wherever. And then he was kissing her again and the hair of his chest tickled at her hard nipples until he pushed back enough to get his jeans unzipped, shoved them and his underwear down over his hips. Her hands drifted down his flat stomach, running her fingers through his hair, stroking the length of his cock and he growled into her mouth as he hooked his thumbs into her waistband. And within seconds they were scattered on the foor too. They both growled in frustration.

"The table," Sketch breathed. "I can… I can… mmm…" – that last as he nipped at her neck, just a pinch of his teeth, then licked the spot.

"Ya were saying?" But she couldn't answer him with anything but another moan as he slid his hands around to cup her arse, rubbing his cock against her mound, slipping his fingers into her slick folds. And then he lifted her up, held her hard against him as he moved them over to the table under the window. He set her down on the edge of the table, shoving the maps and pens clattering to the floor.

It was enough. He spread her knees wider, pulled her forward just a bit and then he was pushing into her, stretching her, filling her. And he was kissing her, his tongue thrusting into her mouth in unison with his cock. Faster, harder, pushing in deeply and then nearly pulling out before thrusting into her again, the dusting of hair on his legs tickling her thighs until she brought one knee up higher, pulling him in even closer. He hooked his arm around her knee to steady her as he rocked into her. The tension built along with the friction, winding her tighter and tighter. She held onto him, arms wrapped around his shoulders. She sank her teeth into his arm to keep from shouting out her release, to keep from alerting everyone upstairs what they were up too.

She felt it when the pain began to cloud his thoughts. Daryl bite harsly into her neck and for a few seconds the pain was almost unbearable, but then it was gone as he came inside her. He licked at the slight amount of blood on her neck, her collarbone. His arms tightened around her.

"Ah, dammit, Sketch," he said, his lips on her skin, his voice filled with remorse. "I'm so sorry."

She pushed him back until she could look into his eyes, his beautiful clouded eyes. "Don't you dare. Don't you dare apologize, not for any of this." He looked a little bewildered, a little stunned, and well he should. She felt that way herself. "I wanted this as much as you did."

He lifted a hand, brushed her hair away from her cheek and neck and then it looked as if his eyes hardened again.

"Is everything okay down there? Annie?" George pounded down the hall upstairs from his room. "I heard you cry out. Oh, shit!"

Over Daryl's shoulder, Sketch watched Glenn barrel down the stairs in his face bright red, the sunglasses which someone had put on him, slightly askew on his face. His expression was so comical, so shocked at the sight of them that she couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled up. She laughed even harder when he started backpedaling at the bottom of the stairs, nearly tripping over his own feet. For the first time since Sketch met him, Daryl grinned, but he never looked away from Sketch.

"Shit," Liam repeated. "Sorry. Sorry. I heard noises, you see, and…" His back had hit the wall and he couldn't retreat up the stairs smoothly, so he stood there instead and ran his hands over his hair. "I thought something coule be wrong, so I just… I… I… I think I should… go back upstairs, yeah?"

But he didn't move. Despite what Sketch expected to happen, Daryl rested his forehead against Sketch's. "He's still there, isn't he?" he asked, amused.

"Yeah, he is. I think he's staring at your bum."

Daryl snickered at the outraged sound Glenn made in response. "Care to join us, Glenn?"

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